Peter's head is pounding again, just enough so he's finding it harder to concentrate than usual. It's a thing he's learned to deal with, something that seems to cycle on and off at its own whim, and if it weren't for the benefits outweighing the disadvantages he probably would have gotten help a long time ago.

He has his usual remedy, synthetic coffee substitute with a chaser of aspirin, and glances at the news feed. Approximately thirty seconds later he disappears and winks back into existence at the mouth of a side alley in Harvard Square, scanning the crowd and waiting. If there's a full-blown Observer still hanging around, it's logical to assume they should be able to somewhat sense each other's presence, even if the tech in Peter's head is... incomplete. Teleportation in particular should stand out in this world like a beacon. It's only a matter of time before Peter will know exactly what he's up to here. And that will inform his next move.